


of silence and wounds, and that which fixes them

by Archer973



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e05, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6056704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment between Sara and Leonard that was not interrupted by Kronos</p>
            </blockquote>





	of silence and wounds, and that which fixes them

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted the newest episode and I have so many emotions about Captain Canary that they forced me to fic again.

“I’d like to think it was your humanity that stayed your hand.” Sara smiled ruefully.

“I’d like to think that too,” she replied, glancing up at Rip. “But I had some help.” She turned and looked towards were Leonard was sitting in a chair, watching the others as they drank and laughed, his usual slyly amused mask in place. Sara regarded him for a moment, remembering the sound of his voice in her ear, the way he said her name, a gentle calling to the humanity taken so violently by the Pit.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, interrupting whatever Rip had been saying, pushing off from the table and exiting the dimly lit office. She could hear the others as they laughed and talked, reveling in the fact that everyone was safe and that this time, they _had_ saved the world.

A part of her wanted to join them, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at Stein, not after having him in her scope just hours before. But that part of her was small, the remnant of the party girl she had been before getting on the Gambit, before the island, before the League. Now much larger parts ruled her mind, and those were interested in only one person.

“Care to share?” Sara asked, nodding to the bottle beside Leonard’s chair. He looked up, his cool blue eyes narrowed from his smirk. He looked at her for a moment, weighing her. Sara looked back, letting him think, letting him run the numbers and the scenarios and the plans, knowing his mind would do it whether he wanted it to or not. Apparently the numbers were weighed in her favor, for he offered her the bottle with a sardonic bow of the head, kicking out a chair in silent invitation.

Sara took both bottle and chair, sitting beside him with her back against the wall and taking a sip the sharp, burning liquid. She smiled as it warmed her stomach, a comforting bite that danced that line between pleasure and pain. She took another drink, then handed the bottle back to Leonard. They passed the bootlegged alcohol back and forth between them for a few moments, silently watching the other members of the team. Then Sara broke the silence.

“Thank you.” Leonard looked at her out of the corner of his eye, passing the bottle back.

“You helped make the contact with Yori. This is your cut of the profits.” His voice was cool, lacking the usual teasing edge. Sara knew she could accept the misdirection, could act like she had been talking about the alcohol all along, could continue along this path they had created, the assassin and the crook, snarking and flirting and fighting. But then she heard his voice in her ear again, saying her name, telling her she didn’t have to be a killer, and knew she really couldn’t.

“I wasn’t talking about the vodka,” she said, turning so that she could look at him. Leonard remained facing the control room, but his eyes were on her, carefully blank as he waited for her to make her move.

Sara took a deep breath. This was hard for her. Admitting she had been wrong, admitting that it wasn’t the bloodlust but her own training, her own mind… But she had to. Because Leonard knew, and if she didn’t say it now, he would never trust her again.

“Thank you for stopping me. Thank you for… for being there for me, when I needed it.”

Leonard regarded her, searching her face. Sara fought the sudden urge to bring her walls back up, the go back to the comfortable criminal camaraderie they had had. Then he smiled, the faintest quirking of the lips, and handed her back the bottle.

“You stopped yourself,” he replied, voice devoid of his usual snarky drawl, turning so that he was facing Sara, blue eyes fixed on her. “I just reminded you that you could.” Sara nodded, throat suddenly tight. For a moment the paired looked at each other, not searching, not demanding, just being, existing together, feeling the presence of the other and being comforted by it.

Moving slowly, giving him plenty of time to react, Sara leaned forward, eyes never leaving his. Leonard watched her, unmoving, a slight smile curling his lips into a smirk, eyes watching her, inviting her.

Sara pressed her lips gently to Leonard’s cheek, lingering for just a moment, hand moving to brush his fingers with her own. Leonard moved his hand minutely, allowing the tips of their fingers to brush. Sara pulled back and looked at him from millimeters away, noses almost brushing. He looked back, his smirk lacking its usual cocky amusement, blue eyes sparkling, daring her.

“Good night, Leonard.”

Leonard’s eyes remained locked with hers as Sara stood, watching her, still smiling, hand moving slightly to follow her fingers as they withdrew, then falling back onto his leg.

“Good night… Sara."


End file.
